


A Morning In French Kansas

by Itsallgoodman



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Justice League - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Morning Sex, Mornings, Riding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2018-11-20 02:06:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11326416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itsallgoodman/pseuds/Itsallgoodman
Summary: Continuing his patrol, Bruce perched on the ledge of a skyscraper rimming the nucleus of the city. Below him, the constellations of downtown lights were winking at him by the thousands. Cars rolled below him on streets crossing over each other in unrepeated patterns, and the wind moaned as it carried downdrafts of smoke towards him.“Slow night?” The wind had carried in something else.





	1. French Kansas

A man in black fled across the rooftop, and Batman followed.

Gotham was the apotheosis of all cities: huge, poking at the sky for what looked like an eternity in all directions. It was dark, and humid, and sprawling, and without nature save for the tired, overgrown weeds stretched through the cracks in the pavement. An occasional bellow of smoke from a chimney wafted up into the night reminding you that there was life behind the gray brick buildings. The day was drained by the west, and night poured into the city.

In his chase the knight had been struck by a momentary dizziness. A kind of yawning sensation made the entire world seem transient - a thing that he could blow away like dust. The feeling passed, and like the city upon whose back he walked, he moved into the darkness.

The Batman passed another rooftop gaining ground on the thief. Below him with every jump were alleys and streets brimming with detritus. Breasting an A/C unit, Batman propelled himself into the warm air of Gotham. Steel-toed shoes finding their landing on the lower back of the criminal. His prey felt the smart snap of chin connecting with gravel before letting out a pitiful howl. With his considerable weight still atop the man’s back, the vigilante clicked open a pair of cuffs and closed them again on top of beaten wrists. Sirens closed in on their location, and Batman unceremoniously dragged the criminal down a fire escape and threw him into the headlights of a parked GCPD cruiser. Officer Montoya stepped out, gave a curt nod to the dark knight, and booked her target.

Continuing his patrol, Bruce perched on the ledge of a skyscraper rimming the nucleus of the city. Below him the constellations of downtown lights were winking at him by the thousands. Cars rolled below him on streets crossing over each other in unrepeated patterns, and the wind moaned as it carried downdrafts of smoke towards him. 

“Slow night?” The wind had carried with it something else.

“Clark. What are you doing here?” Bruce said without moving an inch from his position. He surveyed the son of Jor-El without fear. Moonlight reached every slope of the man's body. Silently, Bruce marveled at that for a second. Even at night the sun found a way to reach the Kryptonian.

“I wanted to see you.” They looked at each other with a sudden depth of feeling between them. A mortal on his city’s tower and a god in the sky. Clark reached for him.

Bruce turned away. “This is careless. Someone could see us together.”

Clark flew over to him undeterred. “I’ve missed you.” A large hand cupped the side of the masked face.

Bruce could feel the heat from the man’s palm against his cheek. For a moment, he let himself lean in. “Don’t touch me,” he voiced softly unable to meet Clark’s eyes. He pulled his face away shrouding his body with his cape. “Not here.”

Clark grinned. “How about somewhere else then? I hear the weather in France is great.”

“There aren’t enough hours in the day to enumerate all the reasons why that’s irresponsible.”

Clark drifted behind Bruce and wrapped his arms around Bruce’s waist. “You can try to list them on our way over the Atlantic.”

“I have a watchtower shift in six hours.” Clark had started to lift them both into the air. The lights of Gotham were getting smaller and smaller.

Clark whispered in his ear, “I’ll have you there in five.” Turning Bruce to face him, Clark wrapped his arms around the small of Bruce’s back until their middles were flush against each other.

_So warm_ Bruce thought as they flew higher.

When everything below them was just dots seperated by clouds Bruce reached up and removed the hood to his cowl. They flew like that for a while, holding each other’s eyes. Breaking the silence Bruce said, “Look Clark, I know I’m not easy to be with. I hate being touched in public.”

Clark nodded, “Mmhm.”

“I can’t be with you as much as I know you would like”

“Noticed that, yes.”

“Sometimes I keep you at arm’s length.”

“Sometimes?”

“I’m not easy. I overanalyze everything.”

“Next?” Clark was smirking at this point which kind of pissed Bruce off.

“I will never be able to give you everything, or at least,” Bruce paused, “not everything you deserve. Clark, you want a normal life, and you should want that. I’m not a man who gets scared easily, but there are times when I wake up thinking that I’m keeping you from something.”

“Like?”

“Dammit Clark, I don’t know. Someone who you can take to dinner without dodging cameras or have a quiet night at home instead of worrying that they’re going to die in a fight against evil.”

They were soaring outside the Gotham city limits now. The wind whistled in the silence between them for a moment. “I don’t know, I think you’re pretty sexy when you’re fighting evil.”

“Drop me.” Bruce squirmed in the hold.

“Okay, okay. Listen, I understand what you’re saying. You don’t think I worry? Gosh, Bruce, a day doesn’t go by that I don’t worry. About the world, you, us. But I’m not so afraid of losing this,” he ran the back of his thumb across the edge of Bruce’s face, “that I’m not going to try to have it.” They were over the water now. The moon reflected up at them from the waves.

Bruce grabbed Clark’s hand squeezing gently. He asked with all earnest concern, “What does this look like in five years or ten?” Bruce tried to imagine it. Clark and him living together in Gotham or Metropolis. Bat and super children running off to school. Clark at the island counter flipping through the paper with Bruce at the kitchen table reading his quarterly earnings reports.

Clark rubbed up and down the hairs on the back of his neck before replying, “I don’t know. We’d figure something out. It’s not like we’re never around each other you know. We do work together for Pete’s sake.”

“But don’t you think that’s part of the issue? I can’t be worrying about you and trying to take down the bad guy.”

Superman chuckled, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly made of glass.”

Bruce placed his other hand on Clark’s chest and pulled at the “S” insignia. Bruce whispered, his voice soft and firm, “That’s not how I see it.”

Clark slowed down and held onto Bruce’s back scooping up his legs so the man was in a bridal hold. “Look at me.” His red cape wrapped around their bodies miles over an ocean. “I’m not going anywhere. Not today, not tomorrow,” he dipped his face so close to Bruce’s that he could feel warm breath on his skin, “not ever.”

Bruce met Clark’s blue eyes. “You can’t promise me that,” he whispered.

“Watch me.” He bent Bruce’s head to rest on his shoulder and kissed him, softly at first, and then with a swift surge of intensity that made Bruce cling to Clark. Clark’s insistent mouth parted pliant lips sending wild vibrations along Bruce’s nerves and drawing from him a sensation he knew no other was capable of making him feel. Bruce accepted the rush of helplessness, the sinking yielding, the surging tide of warmth that left him limp. And before a floating levity carried Bruce away, he was kissing back.

=================================

They landed outside the southern, French commune of Ferrassières that sat on a hill overlooking miles and miles of lavender fields. The sun had just begun to rise giving everything on the hillside a gold, peaceful glow. Bruce held his cowl in his hands as he stared deep into the light. Clark watched him for a moment as the world seemed to stop and breathe in with Bruce. Eventually, he turned back to Clark. “It’s beautiful.”

Clark smiled. “Come on, I have a place here I want to take you.” They traveled on foot for awhile through the fields of lilac until they reached a tiny clapboard cottage isolated from any other man-made structures. It had one very large window that looked out into its untamed, violet surroundings and was modest by all accounts. When they reached the entrance Clark reached inside a nearby planter and pulled out a key to unlock the door. After hearing the sharp click of the lock, Clark stepped aside and looked at Bruce before giving a light-hearted, “Après vous.”

Bruce rolled his eyes and opened the door. The inside of the cottage was cozy with only a small living area, one bedroom, and a bathroom. Old copies of The Daily Planet were on a small coffee table by the window, and a calendar with a cow on it was hanging up in the kitchen. It was so… “Kansas,” Bruce said a bit shocked. “You’ve taken me to French Kansas.”

Clark stared down at his feet a bit sheepish. “I got this place about six months ago. Cheap. Low-traffic. Beautiful in the Summer.”

Bruce stifled a laugh, “You bought a summer home? And here I was, thinking that I was the one flaunting my wealth.” He walked past Clark over to the bedroom and stopped in the doorway. Looking back over his shoulder Bruce said, “You joining me?”

A gulp of air caught in Clark’s throat before he replied, “Oh Rao yes,” and followed Bruce inside. Bruce laid on the bed with his arms stretched above his head and the top of his suit already riding up to expose his impressive midriff. Clark grinned and climbed up onto the bed. He carefully settling his weight over Bruce and discarded his cape and the top half of his suit, tossing them on the floor where they joined a utility belt, cape, and cowl. Dropping down to Bruce’s abs, he bit the bottom of the shirt and pulled it with his mouth up to Bruce’s neck leaving his chest exposed. The cool air on Bruce's nipples sent a wonderful chill along his skin. Clark dipped his head back down to Bruce’s stomach and put his tongue inside Clark’s bellybutton. The warm, wet movement caused Bruce to groan and arch his middle forward.

Clark’s eyes clouded with desire for Bruce. He wanted him. He wanted all of him. His tongue ran along the length of Bruce’s smooth chest and caught a nipple. Circling and flicking the nub with his tongue, Clark could feel Bruce’s erection start to push against the tight spandex. He reached out with his other hand and rolled the other nipple between his fingers while grazing the first with his teeth.

“Ahh, Clark,” he pleaded. Bruce leaned up next to Clark’s face and licked the shell of his ear before pulling an earlobe into his mouth and grazing it between his teeth.

“Oh fuck,” Clark moaned. He took off Bruce’s top and licked the length of Bruce’s neck. He kissed and nipped at the skin eliciting sounds from Bruce no one else was ever allowed to hear. Scars were everywhere along his skin, and Clark took the time to kiss along all of them.

Bruce watched this and tried not to shudder. Clark was a wet dream, smooth skin and rounded muscle sculpting the nearly hairless dips and curves of his chest, his arms, the tight ridges of his stomach. He didn’t look real. One of Clark’s hands came down to press against Bruce’s cock through the tight fabric earning a sigh of relief. Both of their pants were discarded quickly and they were left with nothing between them.

Reaching over to a small nightstand Clark pulled out a tube and squeezed a clear liquid onto his fingers. His cock was flushed pink and stood in a proud curve against his perfectly sculpted stomach. Bruce took a moment to savor the epitome of all male sex, then spread his legs in open invitation.

Clark slicked the length of his fingers quickly, then lightly circled Bruce’s hole. Bruce spread his legs further. Clark's first finger slid in easily, and he wasted no time in following with two more, making Bruce gasp. He worked him open slowly, pulling Bruce apart and pressing deeper with each movement.

“Clark,” Bruce’s face was wracked with pleasure and want. “I need you, now,” he panted, and that was all the prompting Clark needed.

However long it actually took was lost to Bruce, but it felt shatteringly slow as Clark sank into him. Everything sensitive in the morning heat. The sun was rising up into the skyline, painting the sky with a pure scattered light that trailed into the bedroom and blanketed over their bodies in waves of gold.

Clark moaned out Bruce’s name as Bruce clenched around him. Clark cried out above him and started thrusting, deep, slow, steady thrusts that Bruce pushed back into, gripping Clark’s hips, hard, with his thighs, and using both hands to pull Clark's head down. Their kiss was needy and Bruce moaned into it before breaking it to pant hot and wet against his cheek, “I want to ride you.”

Without getting off of Clark, Bruce pushed the larger man onto his back and straddled him. Then he started to move himself up and down on Clark’s length while the billionaire let out a loud moan. Clark started to meet his thrusts, rubbing violently against his prostate. Bruce’s head dropped and his toes curled as he felt himself approaching his orgasm. “Touch me,” he begged Clark. “Please!”

Clark reached out and wrapped a hand around Bruce’s aching dick. Instinctively, Bruce thrust up into his grip. Then Clark started to sync his hand motions with his thrusts. Bruce leaned back, gripping Clark’s thighs and started bouncing wildly up and down Clark’s cock. Each thrust drew a loud moan his lips, and the sound filled the cottage.

Bruce pushed himself back up and wrapped his arms around Clark’s neck looking at him. Still riding his cock, Bruce’s lips melted into Clark’s searching for warmth and understanding. Bruce’s tongue rolled across the other’s lips in the wet, hot space before breaking apart to seek his ear again. After pulling across flushed skin with his teeth, Bruce closed his eyes feeling Clark’s length sheathed deep inside him, and his hand pulled roughly against his cock. Bruce moaned loudly into Clark’s neck when he felt himself about to let go. He panted into Clark’s ear, “Kal-el, come for me,” and was enough to undo Clark completely as he came with a long groan. Bruce followed shortly after, splattering Clark’s chest.

For a moment they just breathed. Then, still inside him, Clark wrapped his arms around Bruce and buried his face in the man’s chest. He felt the slowing of a heartbeat inside.

When they caught their breath, Clark pulled out of Bruce and lazily reached for a box of Kleenex. “Here,” he said and pulled a few out the box before passing them.

Bruce wiped himself off and walked across the room to the shower. “I can feel you staring,” he chimed at the Kryptonian.

Clark stretched and swiveled his arms around at the joints before getting up as well. “Do you mind if I join you?” he asked as entered the room already beginning to fill with steam.

“Be my guest,” he said and backed up in the shower to make space.

Clark let the warm water wash over him as he rubbed Bruce’s shoulders with body wash. The smell of cinnamon drifted up through the steam which made everything sweet and spicy. They washed each other’s hair without a word. Their bodies and minds tuned into each other’s smallest gestures. It was a pocket of heaven that they stayed in for what seemed like forever.

Bruce got out first and dried off before wrapping a towel around his waist and headed to the kitchen. Clark stepped out and dried off as well before putting on an old shirt that read “Smallville High School Crows” with a large cartoon crow on the back giving a thumbs up followed by plaid boxers. He dug through the closet trying to find something for Bruce although all he came up with was a white undershirt and another pair of plaid boxers. He padded into the kitchen and offered the clothes to Bruce. “I’m sorry, I don’t really ever have guests over so extra clothes are in short supply.”

Bruce smiled. “This is fine.” He took the shirt and boxers, dropped the towel around his waist, and began to put them on. Clark quickly looked away and tried to focus his eyes anywhere else. Bruce, of course, found this hilarious. “Come on now boy scout,” he said, “you’re not getting shy over this are you?” Bruce finished slipping on the clothes and walked over to Clark grabbing him by his waist. “You’d think you’d be over it by now.”

“Haha sorry. Just feels wrong to stare.” He knew that made him sound like a fuddy-duddy, but it was just one of those lessons that he learned from Ma. Too late to change now. “Are you hungry?”

Bruce leaned back, letting Clark’s arms support his weight as he said, “Yes, but where would we go to get it looking like this? We’re not exactly going to blend in with the locals in our boxers.”

Clark looked a little embarrassed. “Oh whoops,” he laughed. “I didn’t really think about that. I guess we would look a little peculiar.”

Shaking his head, Bruce lightly swatted at Clark. “Kent, for a man with like ten different types of vision, you are so blind sometimes.” He felt himself slipping away. The urge to fall into this man and let himself be caught.

Clark kissed him softly on the forehead and stepped away. “Do you like music?” He walked over to an old record player in the living room and flipped through a couple records he kept in an old milk crate on the floor.

“Depends, what do you have?”

Clark flipped through the pile. “Uh let’s see...I’ve got Sinatra, Crosby, some Benny Goodman.”

Pulling a glass down from a shelf in the kitchen Bruce poured himself some water. “A big ‘40s fan? I wouldn’t have guessed.” This was a lie. Bruce knew exactly what kind of music Clark liked as well as his favorite food: beef bourguignon with ketchup (but his favorite snack was a soft pretzel). Bruce knew Clark’s favorite book which was  _ To Kill a Mockingbird _ . He also knew that Clark enjoyed peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, football games, and the smell of Kansas in the springtime. He even knew Clark’s middle name was Joseph, but he would never let Clark know he knew these things. It was be admitting to something Bruce didn’t know if he was, or ever would be, ready for.

Clark continued to go through the music. “Yeah, my parents were fans so they kind of got me into it. Oh hey!” Clark pulled out a shiny black disk and put it in place on the record player. “I love this one. It’s called ‘Star Dust’ by Artie Shaw. The folks would dance to this one all the time when I was growing up.” The record crackled to life, and a lone trumpet started sounded before being followed by a slow moving bass and the low support of the trombones. Clark turned back to face Bruce and extended his arm in invitation. “May I?”

Bruce set down his glass and took Clark’s hand in his. “You are something else Kent,” he said as they began to sway with the rhythm. The music gave way to a clarinet. As it sang the notes drifted upwards like wisps of smoke. Clark’s hands were on Bruce’s hips as he rocked them side to side gently. For once, nothing else mattered. This was simple and private - something Bruce could handle. He let his fingers trace the outline of Clark’s chest through the shirt and let his mouth find Clark’s in a kiss that spoke wordlessly: “I adore you.”

When they pulled away, Clark looked at Bruce’s face and couldn’t deny that the man had a harshness about him, but in this moment he was relaxed. Clark loved him. Oh god did Clark love him, but he couldn’t tell him. It was eating him inside. Clark threw himself into whatever he was doing whether that was fighting or loving, and every time they touched he was afraid he would say it. But he knew it could cost him Bruce, and that would kill him.

“I’ve got an idea,” Clark said. “Stand on my feet.” Bruce didn’t argue and put his bare feet on top of Clark’s. Then they were floating. Clark drifted them around the room still swaying in time to the music while his thumbs rubbed small circles into Bruce’s back. They danced on air until the music ended and the sun had fully risen.

Clark descended to the floor softly before Bruce said, “I need to get going.” He walked back to the bedroom and started the lengthy process of putting back on all the pieces to his suit.

“Oh yeah, of course.” Clark switched off the record player and watched for a moment as the disk slowed down then stopped completely. “Thanks for letting me, you know, abduct you and take you to France.”

From the bedroom, Clark could hear Bruce let out a small laugh. “Sure boy scout, but next time I’m going to come unannounced to Metropolis while you’re in the middle of a patrol and steal you away. See how you like it.”

A smirk lined Clark’s face. “I think I’ll manage.” He entered the room with Bruce and pulled his suit off the floor and redressed himself in the red, yellow, and blue spandex. When they were both put together, they walked outside. Instantly, they were met with the fresh floral scent of lavender. Clark took one last moment to appreciate Bruce surrounded by the flowers. “You ready?”

Bruce nodded and put his arms around Clark’s neck as they took off into the air. The world beneath them became a bigger and bigger expanse of purple as if Rao had taken a paintbrush and recolored this corner of the world for them. Silently in each other’s arms, they flew.

When they started to approach Gotham, Bruce could tell something was wrong. There was smoke coming from the city’s skyline. “Superman,” he called snapping out of his daze.

“On it.” Clark flew towards the direction of the smoke.

Bruce heard the sirens before he saw the flames, and when they finally reached the action Bruce saw the GCPD headquarters burning. The fire was licking over the edge of every window and belching out thick smoke into the not-yet-light morning. They landed next to a team of firefighters struggling to hold back the conflagration.

Using his x-ray vision, Clark scanned the building for people. “There are five people still inside. Three on the third floor and two on the second.”

Bruce started to run towards the building. “Get to the third floor. I’ll get the second.”

Clark didn’t argue and flew up through a window to the third floor. Everything was on fire. He thought of using his freeze breath, but he wasn’t sure if that wouldn’t destabilize the entire building at this point. Instead, he ran to the three people trapped inside a filing room and carried them all outside to the emergency responders.

On the second floor, Bruce could hear the coughs of the people trapped and worked his way towards them covering his face with his cape. He found them trapped under a fallen beam and unpinned them. Each person took a shoulder as Bruce helped navigate them away from the flames and outside the building. After they were in the hands of the emergency medical responders Bruce went over to an officer not caught in the flames. “What happened?”

“It was Joker,” she said shaking her head. “Crazy son of a bitch drove by with his goons and torched the place with napalm. Thank God you and Superman got here when you did.”

But what if we hadn’t?

Bruce turned without saying anything and pointed his grappling gun towards the nearest building ledge. Before he took off he heard Clark’s voice behind him. “Where are you going?”

Bruce couldn’t look at him. “I have work to do. Go home.”

“But I can help. Whatever the situation it I’m sure I cou-”

“Go. Home. I don’t need your help.” He looked at Clark and saw the hurt and the confusion, but he just couldn’t deal with it right now. This was his fault. He’d let himself be selfish and indulgent while the police of Gotham were suffering at the hands of a criminal he’d swore to stop. “Tell J’onn I won’t be able to take my shift today. I need to be in Gotham.” He didn’t wait for a reply before he grappled away. How could he have been this foolish? There was no life with Clark. Not when people depended on him. Not when it meant he was putting them at risk. Clark would be okay. He would find someone, someone who deserved him and could give him that something Batman never could. But he couldn’t think about that now. No, right now, Bruce needed to find the Joker. There was going to be hell to pay.

 


	2. A Helping Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Long time no update! I've decided to switch it up a bit and make this fic a longer one. I'm thinking somewhere between 7-10 chapters, but let's play it by ear yeah? 
> 
> Anywho, this chapter is shorter but hopefully still enjoyable!

The next few weeks were a blur of late nights and little sleep for Bruce as he combed through the streets of Gotham interrogating the city’s underground in search of the Joker. He could feel the trail getting colder with each attempt, and each night he went out a little longer and a little more desperate.

“Dammit!” Bruce stalked back into the Batcave throwing his cape and cowl onto his desk. Another fruitless night had passed, and he knew he could do nothing but wait for the Joker’s next move.

 “Good evening Master Bruce. You have received another call from Mr. Kent.” Alfred gathered the discarded costume and placed it with care back on its rack.

 Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose as he let the feeling of longing pass through him like a warm breeze. “I can’t Alfred.”

 “Very well, Master Bruce,” Alfred said.

 This was the third time Clark had called. Bruce could tell he was trying to give him some space but couldn’t help himself.

 “Clark.” He closed his eyes. The warm feeling turned cold. Clenching his fists, Bruce made himself return to his computer and sift through maps dotted with markers denoting Joker sightings.

 “You know Master Bruce,” Alfred said, “it may be of some good to your efforts to take a break and come back to it with fresh eyes.” He paused. “Perhaps even a whole new set of eyes could be of surprising use.”

 “Alfred”

“Eyes with x-ray vision and heat rays.”

“Alfred” Bruce turned to look at him. 

Sighing Alfred conceded. “I’ve seen you come back into this cave for weeks now with no breakthrough. Forgive me Master Bruce, but I think it is wise to know one’s limit.”

Bruce said nothing as he turned back to his computer.

 

_____________

 

The bullpen of The Daily Planet was alive with the click-clack of fingers against keyboards as the publishing deadline for the paper approached. Clark sat slumped in his chair as he stared at his half-finished story on the opening of Metropolis’ newest history museum. 

Sighing, Clark pulled out his phone for the thousandth time that week to stare at a blank screen.  

“Expecting a call Smallville?” Clark looked up to see Lois walking over. When she reached his desk Lois look at the mild-mannered reporter's screen and raised an eyebrow at Clark’s incomplete story.

In classic Clark Kent fashion, he rubbed the back of his neck, pushed up his glasses, and gave Lois a nervous smile. “Aw sorry, Lois. Guess I zoned out for a second there.”

“Uh huh, sure” Lois leaned against the desk and crossed her arms. “Hey Clark, I’m not your boss, it’s Perry you’ll have to explain that terrible lead to. Is something going on? You seem a little out of it this week.”

Clark cursed Lois’ nose for trouble. “I’m alright, really. Just worried about a friend of mine. They are taking on a lot by themself and I can’t help them.”

Well, more like wouldn’t accept any help.

“Is it a pride thing?” Lois asked. 

“Well, I mean, yeah.” Clark knew it was a little deeper than that, but couldn’t really get into the details without it either getting too complicated or revealing.

“Well if it’s really affecting you this much boy scout, maybe you should try to find a way to help where they won’t realize you’re doing it." 

Could he do that? Rationally, Clark knew Bruce didn’t have superpowers, but he couldn’t help feeling like Bruce would instinctively know if Clark flew within a hundred mile radius of Gotham. “Thanks, Lois. I might try that.”

“Well my good-deed-for-the-week quota is officially filled,” Lois said. “You’ll get my bill tomorrow.”

“Wait, is it still a good deed if you’re charging me for it?” Clark called out as Lois walked away.

“Get the story finished Kansas,” Lois called back smiling.

 ___________

 

That night, Clark suited up. The iconic blue and red fabrics were traded in for a simple outfit of black turtleneck and jeans as he soared over the city toward Gotham with an uneasiness in his stomach. He knew that he was going there to provide unseen support in any way he could, but another part of him wanted Bruce to know he was there. To know that he wanted to help him.

Clark’s stomach tensed further as the dark Gotham skyline settled into view in front of the midnight sky. “Okay. Let’s do this.” Clark flew over the heart of the city and systematically used his super hearing and x-ray vision to comb through the seediest parts of town in search of a lead.

Two hours passed before Clark heard something. 

“NO! HELP! Let go! Please!” A woman’s voice rang out piercingly in Clark’s ears. Turning toward the sound Clark saw through the buildings to see two men attacking a woman in an alley.

Clark sped down to the ground immediately and entered the alley. “Excuse me,” he said. 

The assailants turned toward Clark. One of them had the woman pinned against a wall and the other was going through what was presumably her purse. 

“Help me, please!” She struggled against her attacker.

“Shut up bitch!” the man raised his hand to strike the woman right before he found himself and his companion a mile off the ground. 

“Whaaa wha-what the FUCK?!” the thugs were dangling by the collar of their shirts as Clark kept rising up and up.

“You boys like making people feel helpless? Well, let’s see how much you enjoy it.” Clark sped higher and higher up. 

“Oh god please put us down!” 

Clark sighed. “Well, what can I say?” He let go of the shirt collars. “I’m a giver.” 

The men plummeted. Their shrill screams falling through the cold Gotham air.

 They were fifteen feet away from death before they were stopped abruptly by Clark. “I think it’s about time you boys had a visit to the Gotham PD station.” 

After talking with the victim and agreeing to stay with her as she filed a police report (with a few minor gravity-defying facts omitted), Clark brought the assaulters to jail and continued his search. But as the night waned, Clark sensed he wasn’t going to find anything and turned around to fly home. He hovered, suspended in mid-air for an infinity as he turned. But it wasn’t toward Metropolis.

Closing his eyes, Clark listened for a heartbeat. Ah. There it was. Smooth, unwavering, and as sure as day. “Bruce,” he whispered. Miles away he listened. Listened as the dark knight retired at the threat of the morning sun. Breathing in the late-night air Clark kept his eyes closed as he heard Bruce take off his cowl and sit down at his desk. He felt his body ache in protest as he took one more second to listen before he turned his back on the sleepy city and made for home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clark is such a trooper. More soon (I think). 
> 
> Let me know if you're enjoying it in the comments section! I'm a total sucker for feedback.


	3. Bring Your Bat to Work Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark gets a visitor.

Like an addiction, Clark sunk into the dark, deep, warm arms of endless nights flying in and out of Gotham. Each visit he found a new fight and another reason to stay an extra hour. He continued searching for the Joker, but after each night elapsed, he found himself turning his head in search of Bruce just a minute earlier than the last visit. Like a quick hit. Each time telling himself, “Last one. This will be the last one.” 

 

Clark slipped back into his modest apartment in the dead of night shortly before shedding his shirt and padding his way over to the fridge. He pulled out a beer and knocked it back. Clark knew it wouldn’t do anything for him, and that he really only had them for when guests were over...but he wished for a moment that he could get drunk. 

 

He sat down and stared out the window before letting his thoughts take him. Bruce had looked stunning tonight. There was a formal event and Bruce Wayne was slated to be the keynote speaker. Clark recalled the way that his lover’s undoubtedly tailor-made suit hugged his body perfectly, and the thought of the deadly force of Bruce’s body contained by the delicate fabric made him shiver. Clark remembered the way that Bruce had gotten up to speak in front of all those people and put on his fakest smile. 

 

_ I’ve seen the real one.  _

 

Clark’s fingers ghosted across his own lips as he imagined Bruce’s. Hot and pliant against Clark’s touch. He ached. Slowly, Clark moved his arm down the length of his body until he reached the top of his jeans. His left hand still tracing along his bottom lip, Clark began to gently rub the outline of his cock. 

 

“Bruce…” the name hung reverently in the otherwise silent apartment. Clark pressed harder against his jeans in search of friction. He could feel the pressure building and popped open the button and pulled down the fly. Taking himself in hand, Clark began to move slowly up and down his length. “Ah,” he sighed as he imagined Bruce’s tongue against his dick, sliding up and down while looking Clark in the eyes. Clark began to stroke faster, the thought of Bruce on him making his blood pump faster and his heart bump harder against his chest. 

 

“Bruce, ah ah” Clark thrust up into his hand seeking release. Those eyes. Those lips. That body. He thought he could die now if only he could have them one more time.

 

Clark thought about being with Bruce in this moment. 

 

_ Give it to me. Ah, that’s it baby. Mmmm, just like that. _

 

Clark made a breathy groan as he released into his hand and onto his chest. “Fuck.”

 

Clark finished cleaning himself off and started his usual night-time routine. After showering off and brushing his teeth, Clark threw on a T-shirt before sinking into his bed. When he closed his eyes, he could still hear Bruce’s heartbeat in his ears, and Clark drifted off to its slow steady thrumming. 

 

______________________

 

Bruce got home that night angry and exhausted. The charity ball for Gotham’s newest children’s hospital had taken up most of his evening and left no time for Joker hunting. Stalking up to his room, Bruce shed his coat and tie sitting down on the edge of his bed and stared at his phone. 

 

No new messages. Bruce supposed it was what he wanted, but still, it was odd that he hadn’t heard anything from Clark in two weeks. He took off the rest of his suit and slid into bed. Pulling out an iPad, Bruce started to flip through the security camera feeds throughout Gotham city’s businesses. Being computer-savvy had its privileges. After twenty minutes of surveillance footage from across the city, it seemed like things had been mostly quiet in Gotham tonight. Flipping through a few more feeds Bruce was getting ready to set it down when he saw something. A masked man was sticking up a convenience store on the north side of the city. The man had a shotgun and was pointing it at the cashier before suddenly disappearing from the screen. It was instant. One second he was there and then he wasn’t. Bruce slowed down the video and went through the moment frame-by-frame. Then, he saw it. The blur of a built, black-haired man grabbing the robber and pulled him out in a split second. 

 

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding.” Bruce sunk his head into a pillow behind him. It was time to take a little trip to Metropolis. 

 

__________

 

Walking into work that day, Clark could sense the energy at The Daily Planet. As he stepped on to the elevator he was joined by a group of metro-section writers. 

 

“Oh my god is he really here? I cannot believe it!”

 

“I know! I heard he’s thinking about buying the paper. Ah, wouldn’t that just be the best?”

 

_ Who the fuck would buy a print paper in this economy?  _ Clark pressed up against the back of the elevator to avoid an interaction with the star-struck duo. When he reached his floor he could hear the murmuring outside before the doors even opened. A wall of people stood between him and his desk. “Excuse me, sorry. Pardon me!” Clark pushed, as politely as he could, toward his desk, and then, he saw it. 

 

Bruce, in his full I-could-buy-and-sell-you-and-you’d-like-it attire, was laughing and walking through the office being guided by editor-in-chief, Perry White. “You know Mr. Wayne, we have a certain way of doing things here. I’m not big on this fad of CEO’s buying up a paper and turning out propaganda,” Perry said in his usual no-bullshit style.

 

“You have nothing to fear Mr. Perry. I have every intention of keeping The Daily Planet exactly the way it is. In these trying times, I think it is important to support good journalism.” 

 

Perry seemed to warm to this response. “Haha! A man I can do business with. Come, come meet our team.” 

 

_ Oh shit.  _ Clark turned to get the hell out of the bullpen, but the wall of admirers blocked him from exiting. 

 

“Kent!” Perry said.

 

_ Crap. _

 

“Kent get over here and meet Mr. Wayne.” Clark turned around quickly and pushed up his glasses. He walked over to Bruce and extended his hand for a handshake. 

 

“Mr. Wayne. What an honor.” The look on Bruce’s face said everything it needed to. If there was a competition in life for “most smug”, Bruce would have blown away any competition. 

 

“Actually, Mr. Kent and I have met before. He interviewed me awhile back at a charity event. It’s Clark right?”

 

_ Ouch. _

 

“Well, I am very flattered you remember me Mr. Wayne.” It hurt to just look at him. He wanted to touch him. His stark, heady weakness fighting his urge to be civil. They held eye contact for a moment longer than strictly necessary. 

 

Perry saw Lois and cut in. “Ah, there she is. Come meet our very own Pulitzer Prize winner, Lois Lane.” 

 

Bruce gave Clark one more smile and said, “nice to see you, Clark,” before walking away. Clark watched him move over to Lois, who looked impeccably professional and put together as always. 

 

“Mrs. Lane, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I am a fan of your work.” He flashed her that dazzling smile and it brought something nasty out of Clark. 

 

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Mr. Wayne. I’m interested in how much of it is true.” 

 

“Haha ah, well all good things I hope,” Bruce said coyly. 

 

_ Don’t look at her like that.  _

 

Clark was trying to hide his jealousy and look at anything else, but his eyes were glued on Bruce.  _ He knows. He’s here because he knows and he wants me to know he knows.  _ Clark’s head hurt from the reasoning, but he knew he was right.  

 

“Hey Clark,” his editor George’s voice snapped him back to reality. “Hey, I need you to go downtown and cover the dog parade.” 

 

“You got it, George.” Clark took one last look at Bruce who, for a split second, turned to look at Clark with a face that said, “This isn’t even close to over.” 

 

Clark, in an act of defiance, replied with a face that could only mean one thing: “I know. Bring it on.”

____________

 

When he walked back to his apartment after the parade and a trip back to the office, it was somewhere around 9 o'clock and the nightlife of the bustling city was in full swing. He passed groups of salarymen bar hopping and young adults lining up for clubs. The neon lights projected dazzling blues and reds onto the streets below, and the whole city seems to be flickering with energy. 

 

The whole way home Clark was wondering what it would be like to experience the city with Bruce, to drink with him in a bar and dance with him under electric lights. His heart ached at Bruce’s stubbornness.

 

_ I know he’s not happy like this. I know I’m not happy like this.  _

 

When Clark’s got off the elevator to his apartment floor, he fumbled around for his key in his pocket and unlocked the door. His apartment was pitch black with only the light coming from the window to guide him in. He switched on the lights to find Bruce against the wall and staring out the window. 

 

“Clark. We need to talk.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Leave a Kudo or a Comment if you'd like to read more. Also, the place in France I mentioned is worth googling. Very stunning! (＾▽＾)


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